I will surrender, I'll have to give in, Will throw my talent into rubbish bin, Put on high-hilled shoes and a stupid smile... Raping computer with violent clicks, Asking my boss if he wants his ass licked, My working desk covered with pile of files..
I don't wanna sell my time, I don't wanna sell my mind, I don't wanna sell my soul! If I tear my dream off myself My life would become fashionable hell, But the entire me would be sold...
Though I am young I am grown up enough To start to feel that my life's rather tough And one should work, one should earn, one should save... And I am willing to work very hard But what I'm dying to work at is art And I don't wanna be an office slave...
I don't wanna go there, no! But I'll have nowhere to go, So I will have to sell my soul... Gossiping about cooleagues, Trying to avoid intrigues Of people who are as well sold...
Some people say that what can help is love, But I think love really is not enough, Love will ask 'How was your working day?' And this question will be asked every day, And every day I will have to complain, And love will turn to slow motion decay..